New Reality
by Higino2
Summary: Years have passed since the Dragonborn ventured seriously, or had to solve some crisis in Skyrim, making him lead a normal life, living with his family. But a group wanting revenge destroys any chance of it continuing in this life. Now, lost in a new reality, those who challenge him will learn that: the dragon never sleeps.
1. Chapter01-The Dragon Never Sleeps-Part1

Hello readers! Well, this is my "first" fanfic, and as you can see, English is not my first language.

After much procasting, I finally started writing this fic. So, please, every comment is welcome (except flames), and if you notice errors, all help is welcome.

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**Chapter 01 - The Dragon Never Sleeps - Part 1**

Once again dawn arrives in the cold lands of Skyrim. Winter was nearer the end, but from time to time it still snowed in the province, especially in the higher areas, as it was last night. Deer came out of their hiding places to look for the buds that were slowly emerging beneath the thin snow, and some of the predators tried their luck by hunting small animals that were still lethargic.

The date was 4E 207 14 of First Seed, thus making six years since the civil war in Skyrim ended up resulting in the secession of the province from the great Empire with the help of the mythical Dragonborn. Life did not change much for the common people, they only changed the imperial laws by nord laws and they returned to worship Talos.

But to the Dragonborn, this was just something so far away that he didn't have to worry about. He slowed down after stopping so many catastrophic events, preferring a quieter life in his mansion in the southwest of Eastmarch. He worked in his forge, visited his colleagues in Whiterun and Windhelm, and, of course, took care of his family.

With white skin and black hair like most of his people, the Breton got out of bed and began to make a simple series of stretches, a routine he acquired even before he left High Rock. After that, he went to the kitchen and dining room where he met Lydia, his faithful housecarl, and one of his adopted daughters, Sofie. The housecarl, already clad in her steel armor, smiled at her Thane, handing him a mug full of hot coffee, coming straight from Elsweyr.

"I know I always say that," said the Dragonborn, bringing the mug close to his face and breathing in the aroma of the imported drink, admiring its wonderful scent. "but that was the best buy I've ever made ... I need to give a bonus to those Khajiits." And he began to drink, shivering with the sudden surge of energy in his body.

"Yes, my lord, you always say that ... but I do not care, you're right after all." Lydia then went back to eating her breakfast.

"Good morning father, did you sleep well?" Asked the daughter of the thane, already dressed in a blacksmith's apron to return to work on the forge of the family in some new invention.

"... I would have slept, had it not been for a certain 'expert of Dwemers' to be hammering all night in her inventions ..." he growled in mock anger, sipping his coffee. But then his face changed to a more cheerful one as he picked up a Snowberry Crostata and took small bites.

"Ha ha ha ... You know I need to finish my work for Calcelmo within three days, if I want to continue studying," she replied, drinking a mug of water.

"I very much doubt that he does it, after all, he depends on me to get a direct translation of Falmer's source ... besides the many contributions we gave him." he went back to eating, enjoying the silence while it lasted. When his two other sons woke up, the house would be livelier and much louder. "Well, I was thinking of visiting Master Paarthurnax ... in addition to meeting Master Arngeir and the other Greybeards. Are you going to get some more sleep or will you stay in the forge?" but Sofie only gestured, drawing attention to her clothes, which made the father roll his eyes.

The table continued in silence for a few more minutes, until childish laughter and small barks were heard from the room above. The sound of heavy footsteps on the wood and the clawing of paws announced the arrival of the rest of the breton's family in the kitchen. The first to arrive was a little elf, dark gray skin and red eyes, with black hair in a simple short cut and wearing a set of shirt and pants in light gray and blue colors. He is Edril Dulenar Dumont, Richard's third foster son. At his feet followed his faithful companion: an Ice Wolf Cub named Sottuz, White Claw/Blade in Dovahzul, the language of dragons. The pup and young Dunmer are inseparable, always playing together or with their siblings.

Behind the pair, another child descended the stairs, making merry laughter as she held a red wolf cub with black paws and white belly. The child was an elf, as could be seen through the pointed ears, but the color of her skin was so white that it resembled the snowy peaks of Skyrim or the softest clouds. Her hair was a pale yellow color and her eyes looked like the famous ice that never melted, Stahlrim, of so blue they are. Bisia Anyammis Dumont might as well pass as a High Elf with the rare condition of albinism, this being her 'official' history, but she is the first Snow Elf to be born in generations from an ambitious project of her adoptive father in order to prevent the total extinction of this ancient species, which by the actions of the Dwemers became what are now known as Falmers. This morning she wore a blue brocade gown of golden color and a blue skirt with beige prints, a gift from her 'aunt' Brelyna Maryon. And in her hands, Sahqoah, or Red Huntress, a Red Pit Wolf Cub, yawned in her owner's lap. Just like her white 'brother', she quickly hooked up with the little elf and they never separate.

"Good morning daddy!" shouted Edril, laughing while running to embrace his father, and then doing the same to the two other occupants of the kitchen. "Good morning, Sofie, good morning Auntie Lydia!"

"Good morning, daddy, sister and Aunt Lydia!" Bisia shouted afterwards, hugging everyone after putting her wolf on the ground, who started running with her brother to the small bowl where they had food for the two of them.

Returned the various "Good morning!", the two children sat at the table and began to eat, while the elders talked about various subjects, with children asking and giving their opinions from time to time. With the end of the first meal of the day, Sofie headed for the forge attached to the side of the mansion, and the father and children began to do the ordinary day-to-day tasks, leaving Lydia to make the rounds around the property. Passing almost half a hour, the breton took his children to the porch to catch some sun and play a little in the snow, taking his faithful crossbow if some beast wanted to try his luck, and a book to pass the time. He smiled to see them playing with their toys and wolf cubs: the peace it brought in their spirit, both human and dragon, was one of the best sensations in the world. Feeling the bench where he was rocking with the weight of someone sitting, Richard looked to the side and picked up a mug of hot coffee, courtesy of Lydia who had just finished her round.

"After so many battles and adventures ... who would say that moments like this would give me so much peace ..." Richard said, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall of the house.

"A warrior does not live his whole life on a battlefield, my Thane." and the housecarl replied, taking a sip of her coffee. "Sometimes they need to stop for a few moments like these."

"...W-where did all this wisdom come from, Lydia?" the breton pretended to be surprised, but it was no more than a joke that Lydia went on.

"Well, I am a woman of many talents, my dear lord," she replied, making a sensual pose ... which didn't work well since she was wearing heavy steel armor. But it didn't matter: they both laughed at the joke they shared.

The moment of relaxation was short-lived, however: a gust of wind from the east began to blow toward them. Normally, this is not uncommon, since the road below that cuts the mountain channels the wind. But when the two wolf cubs stop playing out of nowhere, sniff the air, and start barking ... well, that was a good reason for Richard to take a more serious stance. He rose from the bench and began to watch eastward, looking for what would have caught the pups' attention. Good weather without snow helped him notice a crowd of dark shapes coming from the direction of Uttering Hills Cave. This was really suspect, and fearing for the worst, quickly gave orders to his housecarl, who was already standing, sword in hand.

"Lydia, quick, take the twins in and bring Sofie ... this does not seem to me to be a simple caravan that got lost ..." he then reached down and picked up his crossbow, loading it and leaving it in readiness.

"Edril, Bisia, let's go inside, now." the serious tone of the nord cut off any argument from the children, who without delay followed the warrior into the house. As she led the children safely, the dragonborn stepped off the porch and began to walk toward the 'visitors', wanting to intercept them as far from their home as possible.

As he drew nearer, he began to recognize the long black robes with gold details, the green metallic glass armor, and the yellowish skin of the figures walking toward him: Thalmors. With the defeat of the empire, the Thalmors were practically expelled from Skyrim by kicks and swords. The sight of a platoon with more than two dozen High Elfs so inside of Skyrim's territory is alarming in itself, since they are literally barred from entering. But when he saw who led the way to his house, there was no doubt why they were there. It was not a surprise attack against Skyrim, the first of a new war, but something much simpler: revenge.

"Well well well ... If it isn't the most worthy First Ambassador Elenwen. Or should I say former First Ambassador, since you were expelled from Skyrim. What do I owe to this ... 'illustrious' visit?" asked the Breton, disgustedly taking his voice completely. He stood in front of the group and raised his hand, signaling to stop. "But it does not matter. Don't take another step, you are invading my property. Say what you want, and get out of here, Elenwen."

"You filthy mongrel! You destroyed all of our government's plans for Skyrim! And most of all, you humiliated me in my own embassy! " she was fuming, her hands closed in sheer hatred, and it was possible to see small arcane emanations coming out of her. She took a deep breath to calm herself and then changed her expression to one of those who had cornered his prey. "But, like you said ... it does not matter ... after all, we did not come just for you. Of course, eliminating you will be a great consequence, but no, no no ... we came because it came into our hands that you would be in possession of a ... very special being."

Richard's eyes widened. Of course, the knowledge that his daughter isn't an ordinary elf is not at all obscure, and he would not leave her locked up at home without living either. But the cover story she made would be enough to take away any suspicion of it! And also, who would be crazy to try to do something against the Dragonborn family?! "Okay, you officially signed your death warrants... no one touches on my daughter and leaves alive, right?" he squeezed the crossbow angrily, the wood of the stock grunting at the force applied. His irises, once green, began to acquire small golden flecks, and his pupil began to flatten like a reptile.

"Oh ... so it's true. You really have in your hands a pure Falmer child..." the elf said, taking on a more serious face. She raised her arms forward, a purple energy sphere in her left hand, and a flame on her right indicated of conjuration and destruction spells respectively. "Deliver the child, Dragonborn, and surrender, that we may leave the rest of your pathetic family alive. Or not. It does not matter, you're going to die anyway. "

A fierce smile took over his face, the anger he felt for someone wanting to attack his family distorting his sense of humor. "Hehe, funny... many tried to bring me down and none of them did ... Alduin, Harkon, Miraak ... they all fell. I doubt you are any different Elenwen. _Bovul_, _Fahliille_. Flee, elves. My _Drem_, patience is ending." Richard's mortal soul and the Dov, his draconian immortal soul can sometimes disagree and they go into dissent ... but when it comes to family, they are never more in tune.

"Words too bold for a dead man... ATTACK!" shouted the Thalmor, and her subordinates began to push past her. First came the warriors, armed with armor and swords of Glass, fifteen in all. The mages, dressed in black robes, began to circulate outside, to have a free field of vision for the breton, four of them. And with them, five more archers also wearing armor and bows of glas began to take aim.

The Dragonborn only took a deep breath, concentrating, bringing to light the power bestowed upon him by Akatosh. Kyraneth's gift to mortals to rebel against the dragons. Richard spoke only three words in the language of dragons, bringing to the world his soul, his essence, again after years in inactivity. "_**FUS RO DAH!**_"


	2. Chapter02-The Dragon Never Sleeps-Part2

**Wow...** Thank you ... seriously, thanks to everyone who has read, commented, followed and favorited! I can't thank you enough!  
Ok, so, I will try to mantain an update schedule of two weeks between each chapter. It's seems a lot, I know, but because of college (last year engineering is a bore), I'm not finding the time to write much and wanted to have a ... a certain amount of chapters ready before posting one (having a two or three already prepared).

**Chyllux - **Thank you! You will see soon enough.  
**RubixJr - **Thank you! And I aim to please!  
**Guest - **Thank you! And I really want it to be!

So... **Disclaimer Time!**  
**Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim does not belong to me, all rights are held by its developer Bethesda Softworks. Warcraft II: Tides of Darkness and Beyond the Dark Portal, Warcraft III: Reign of Chaos and The Frozen Throne and World of Warcraft do not belong to me, all rights are of its developer Blizzard Entertainment. All my OCs belong to me.**

"_**THU'UM**_"_** \- Dragon Shout  
**_"_THU'UM_" - _Dragon Language or no-Common/no-Cyrodilic Language.  
_"Hello!" - Normal Language

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**The Dragon Never Sleeps - Part 2**

"_**FUS RO DAH!**_" Shouted the dragonborn. The Unrelenting Force Shout created bluish shockwaves that traveled at great speed and clashed with the altmer warriors who were on his immediate front. The result was four warriors flying downhill, and a semi-circular trench dug in the snow.

Richard began to act, lining up his Crossbow to one of the archers and firing, the bolt flying and perfectly hitting the space between the helmet and the armor collar. In time for just one more shot, he loaded one more bolt and fired at another archer, the dwemeric metal tip traversing the armor in the heart region. The first warrior advancing with his sword raised was knocked down with a stab in the armpit and another in the throat, courtesy of one of the throwing knives that the Breton always takes hidden with him. Another was approaching, and was presented with a knife piercing his skull, thrown by the dragonborn.

The dragonborn drew back and took a deep breath, feeling again his body and soul warm up with the use of yet another Shout. "_**YOL TOOR SHUL!**_" And an inferno was ejected from his throat, an immense ball of fire turning the snow into vapor instantly, as well as incinerating three more warriors and a mage who were caught by it. The Breton satisfied with the work, did not notice a spell coming toward him, the Thunderbolt striking his shoulder. He grunted, staring at the mage who had hit him. It had not caused much damage, his race is particularly resistant to spells, but it was nonetheless irritating. He grabbed another knife, now from his belt, and shouted, "_**WULD NAH!**_" which propelled him at absurd speed against the mage, and plunged the knife into his heart, enough to throw the body back. But that did not mean that the other fighters stood still: the two other wizards, with their hands glowing in purple light, pointed forward and summoned each Storm Atronach, creatures made of pieces of floating rocks, gases and lightning, coming directly from one of Oblivion's planes.

Retrieving the knife, Richard positioned himself to face the creatures and the rest of the troops, but the sound of a projectile flying and striking one of the magicians, thus undoing one of the conjurations, brought a smile to his face. Lydia had a bow in her hand and prepared another arrow to shoot at another enemy, and accompanying her came Sofie who wore a Dwemer Armor, her right arm holding a shield of the same material and her left erect, preparing to cast a fire spell. An arrow coming toward the housecarl was intercepted by the girl's shield, while the housecarl shoots at another warrior, also killing him.

"I thought you were going to miss the party!" Richard shouted, then flipped sideways to escape the creature's stone fist.

"It took a little persuasion to make them stay indoors ... and Sofie needed to put on the armor," Lydia replied, putting her bow away and taking out her steel sword and shield, running off into the middle of the battle.

"And I also needed to get your sword that you insisted on not taking out!" the Nord girl said, her left arm launching a medium-sized Fireball against another warrior, who used his shield to block. It was not as effective as his armor began to magically catch fire, but he continued to run toward her, catching moment to strike with his sword. She simply smiled and looked down, the warrior doing the same ... but not in time to stop his attack and not step on a red-orange runic circle, which promptly exploded and threw the elf back. Before he even recovered, an ice spike hit him full and pierced his armor.

The girl then took advantage of the gap and threw her father's sword to him, who caught her in the air after dodging a Lightning Bolt from the elemental. Richard's sword might be called a war rapier, since its handle was actually from a rapier, but the blade resembled more of a cyrodilic side-sword. He smiled, taking his faithful companion into his hands again, and narrowed his eyes, pinning them to a spot behind the Atronach, where an archer was shooting arrows into his family. The dragonborn then ran, jumped, and used the floating rocks of the creature as a platform, ignoring the not-so-painful shock on his leg, to sink his sword into the high elf's collarbone.

The housecarl advanced against one of the warriors, striking him in the face with her shield and making a cut in his lumbar with her sword. He responded equally as he ferociously attacked with two swords at the same time, creating two cuts on her, on the right biceps and thigh. "Grrr... should have accepted that new armor..." she grunted, retreating and positioning herself defensively so as not to give way to an attack.

"Bow to the superiors, Nordic bitch! You and this half-breed abomination will pay for what you did to Lady Elenwen!" the thalmor screamed and moved forward again, attacking as if it were a cyclone made of blades, giving Lydia no chance to fight back, only to defend herself and deflect the blows.

"You'll pay for saying that, elf! You can insult me, but never the honor of my Thane!" she shouted as well, and surprised the warrior by holding both his swords with hers, and punching him with the edge of the shield on his head. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, she pressed the attack with fury, until in a moment of distraction caused her to cut the throat of the elf, who watched her horrified and gurgling, as he fell to knees holding the wound. He still tried to use one of his hands to use a healing spell, but Lydia was faster and cut of his head "Die you honorless worm!".

Nearby, Richard faced two warriors while trying not to be struck by the mage's spells, and Sofie bombarded the remaining archers with explosive fireballs. The dragonborn fought the two swordsmen efficiently, no movement spent, never using his enormous strength excessively, after all, the battle was practically won. With a flick of his wrist, he disarmed one of his opponents and took advantage of the moment of distraction to make a cut at the hip, just above the thigh, the leather of the armor being cut like butter. The elf screamed in pain, kneeling on the snow as he held the cut. Richard lifted his sword to give the coup de grace, when a scream cut the sound of the battle: "AAAAAARGH!" "Lydia!". The desperate call of the housecarl's name from his daughter made all his movements stop, the elf forgotten on the floor while bleeding.

The Breton turned, and saw the Nordic woman trying to get up, sparks coming out of her body. Ahead of him, the Storm Atronach swirled furiously, a layer of sparks and mini-lightnings danced through its stones, indicating the use of the Shock Cloak spell. It approached the warrior who was still trying to get up, some stones floating in his body forming a fist and hitting her. She screamed again, the fist hitting against her steel helmet accompanied by another electric shock. Sofie tried to advance with her shield, but the two archers and the remaining mage did everything to prevent her advance. One more punch, and one more scream, now making the housecarl go down.

"Lydia! Alright, enough with playing fair!" cried the dragonborn, his fury increasing threshold. He strengthened himself, returning his focus for the elven warriors, the one he had struck coming back at his feet after the yellowish light indicating the use of a restorative spell leaves his body. "_**KRII LUN AUS!**_" he shouted, and a purple shockwave passed through the warriors. The power of 'Marked for Death' showed when their armor and skin began to turn pale, and cracks of the same color as the Shout's energy became visible. They simultaneously screamed in pain, screams that went silent as the dragonborn impaled them with the sword, the formerly strong armor becoming fragile as if made fabric.

Already the first daughter removed from her alchemy's bag a great bottle, throwing it with all her force in the general direction of the archers. The oily liquid rocked the bottle and turned it unctuously. But that was what she wanted, for with a simple Fire Ball, the flask exploded and bathed the elves in a hell of flaming oil, burning them, where she ending them with a Chain of Lightning, the spell jumping from one to the other and putting an end to their lives. She then returned to pay attention to the housecarl, rushing toward her and attacking the offending Atronach with another volley of fire balls, which didn't even disturb him.

"No! You will not help that whore!" Elenwen, who had slipped unnoticed from the fight reappeared, her two hands outstretched and casting a Fire Ball spell on the father and daughter duo, stopping the dragonborn for a moment but causing the daughter to stagger and fall. The spell left his clothes burned, but he ignored them, needing to be quick to defeat the conjured creature. "Graaaaah! I'll have to use this sooner than I expected! You, mage! Stop they with that!"

"Yes, my lady!" the mage said, taking a parchment from her robes and unrolling it. As she forced her magick into it, the scroll began to fall away, turning to ashes, and her hands began to glow in a greenish tint. Glancing in the direction of her enemies, she released the spell, which resulted in a horizontal semicircular shockwave, which crossed everyone in front of her: Lydia, Sofie and Richard.

"_**WUL-**_" he Shouted again, but was interrupted by the shockwave that made all his muscles stop at the same time. He fell to the floor, his mouth open, unable to do anything as the Atronach advanced against his oldest friend. He struggled, feeling his body struggle against the actions of the unknown energies that rooted him in place.

"Let's make her an example of what happens to those who meddle in the plans of the Aldmeri Dominion! Mage!" Elenwen gave the order, her eyes glittering with murderous joy.

"Yes, Lady Elenwen. Atronach, put an end to this inferior being." the mage complied, signaling to the creature to finish its service. The Storm Atronach floated toward Lydia and used its large stony hands to grab her by the neck, holding it for all to see, then began to choke her. The housecarl began desperately to kick the floating stones as she tried to scratch and punch the hand that held her with her steel gauntlets, with no effect whatsoever. Disliking the attitude of the human, Atronach struck his final blow, a Lightning Bolt spell at point-blank that pierced her belly, the impact zone turning charred black. He opened his hand and let the smoking body of the human fall, his connection with the mortal realm ending and being wrapped in a purplish portal.

"LYDIAAAAAAAAAAAA!" cried Richard, his body finally overcoming the paralysis and running toward the Nordic woman, who still spasmed as the electricity ran through her. He dropped to his knees, tears falling from his face, as he hugged his friend's body, already knowing he could not do anything else. There was no more pulse, the shock being strong enough to stop the heart. Just behind him came Sofie, who left her shield on the ground and hugged her father tight, also crying. "No, no, no! This can't be happening!"

"Ha haha…. ahahahahah! See Dragonborn-" she spat out the word like it was made of poison "-which happens with who gets in our way. But do not worry, soon you and your family will join her!"

The Breton wiped his tears and looked at his daughter, who, even crying, nodded, holding the body of the one she regarded as her aunt. He stood up, and looked toward the elf, his eyes now losing all their greenish color to a golden that shone with power, and his pupils turned to look like those of a dragon. "... Elenwen... you lost your _Vazaha Lahney_... WHEN I FINISH WITH YOU, NOR YOUR _ZII_, WILL EXIST! WRAAAAAAAAH! ". An oppressive aura filled the area, the shockwave from Richard's powerful scream spreading snow everywhere, the windows from the rooms above his house shattering. With every step he took, the snow turned to steam.

The Thalmor agent began to step back, at the same rate as Richard was advancing against her, along with the wizard who had gone to her side. Her eyes widened, and for the first time she began to feel pure fear for her life. It was not a man who was walking in his direction, but a beast, the most powerful of them: a dragon. She turned quickly to the mage, and commanded in a trembling voice. "D-Do not stand still! Use another scroll! I must do the incantation!" despair was evident in her voice.

"Y-yes! Yes, my lady!" with her hands shaking, the elf mage took another scroll and reworked the previous process. When the shock wave came near the dragonborn, he simply passed through as if it didn't even exist, increasing the speed of its march. "It's not working Lady Elenwen!"

"Keep throwing all that you have at him!" Elenwen shouted, while taking from her enchanted purse a large golden artifact, a large roll of parchment with two stems at each end. It was one of the legendary Elder Scrolls, scrolls so rare and powerful that they say that they are pieces of creation. Richard widened his eyes in the moment he recognized them, but the questions of 'How did she find one?' And 'What is she going to do with him?' didn't even go through his mind as his vision tunneled again as he increased his speed, the battle cry still in his throat.

"If I have to make this sacrifice to see this world free from you, Dragonborn, then I will do it at any cost!" she opened the scroll, the immense flow of energy making it shine white. The Elder Scrolls could only be read with relative security in the presence of the sacred Ancestral Moths, and yet there were still risks. Elenwen did not have them. The elf wanted only to use the power of the scrolls to activate the ritual. A ritual that, ironically, was very much alike the one the old Nordic warriors used to banish Alduin for the future. "Lord Auri-el, King of the Aldmers! Grant me your sacred power for this contract to be heard! Begone, Dragonborn! By words older and more right than your body and soul, I destroy all the bonds that you, your family and your belongings have in this world and I send you to another! You are banished! I cast you out until the end of the ages!"

With intense light consuming Elenwen's face, the prophecy and ritual were completed. The Breton's enormous mansion began to creak, and soon it was engulfed by a purple sphere, as if it were the target of conjuring magic, slowly disappearing from that reality, the cries of children still in the house could be heard until any remnant of it had disappeared. The same thing happened to Sofie, who holds Lydia's body with her own life, the two disappearing from a portal. Finally it was the Dragonborn, who slowly disappeared, but not before throwing two objects towards the elves.

Elenwen took her eyes from the Scroll, which were completely white, blinded by the power it contained. She took a deep breath and let it fall into the snow. "Finally... he's gone...". It was the last word she said, a knife piercing her skull and ending her life, while another ended the life of the mage, completing the massacre and the tragedy that happened in that place.

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Vazaha Lahney - Right to live;  
_Zii_ \- Spirit or Soul;


End file.
